Something 'Tween Retribution and Vengeance
by Jessica White
Summary: Written because Tweener needs to be avenged.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately I don't own Prison Break, Tweener or any of the other PB characters. If I did Tweener would still be alive.**

The world was moving in slow motion and David Apolskis was staring down the barrel of a gun. The federal agent who had caught up with him a few hours earlier had driven him to an isolated spot, and was now pointing a firearm at his chest. Tweener put his hands up as he heard the shots fired…

…but they didn't hit. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw Agent Mahone lying on the floor wearing a crimson halo of blood and a bullet in his temple. In the corner of his eye Tweener saw a man walking towards him. The stranger stopped at Mahone's body and lifted the keys to Tweener's handcuffs from his belt. He approached Tweener and raised his gun.

"Hey kid, I need this car," he tossed the keys at Tweener's feet. Tweener scrabbled at the dust, lifted the keys and unlocked his right handcuff. The stranger grabbed the front of Tweener's overalls and pulled him forwards until their foreheads touched. "Kid I need this car," he growled. "And you need to run." The stranger threw Tweener to the ground and got into Mahone's car.

"Run kid."

Tweener stood and watched the car drive off, then looked at the corpse to his left. Tears welled at his eyes and he put his hands to his head. Images flashed in his mind. Scofield, Mahone, Avocado, Bellick, T-Bag, Fox River and Debra Jean. He spun slowly on the spot, surveying his options, the highway, a dusty track, fields and a distant town.

The sound of a motor in the distance was getting nearer. With a final look at Mahone's dead eyes, not knowing where he was or where he was going, he turned and ran into the fields.


	2. Chapter 2

Tweener ran through the field, shielding his face against the long grass whipping at his body. After a few minutes he stopped, looking around. Where was he going? Turning himself in wasn't an option. What was it Mahone had said? _"I don't have anything against you kid, but they do."_ The only other people he knew in Utah were Michael and Debra Jean. Debra Jean's house was out of the question. The police would soon find out he'd escaped again and would probably look there first. Michael was his only choice.

Tweener crouched and ran back towards the track. Reaching the edge of the field he looked cautiously in each direction. Mahone's body was still there. Double-checking that the road was deserted, Tweener ran to the dead man's side and in a split second, had lifted the wallet and phone from inside his jacket. Tweener's eyes fell on the gun at the body's left hip. Looking into the glassy eyes staring up at him, he lifted the firearm. "I think I'll be taking this," he said before darting back to the safety of the field.

When the body was no longer in sight Tweener flipped open the cell phone and dialled.

_"Information…"_

"Can I get a number for Jeanette Owen?"

_"What address?"_

"Uh, 1120 Sheep Road, Tooele, Utah."

_"Ok, that's 555-7864"_

"Thanks man."

Tweener hung up and dialled again. It rang a few times before being picked up by an answering machine.

"_Hi, you've reached the Owen residence, please leave your name and number and we'll get back to you."_

"Hey guys, you still there? It's Tweener, pick up man."

"Tweener?"

"Who's that?"

"Sucre."

"Sucre, get Scofield on the phone."

Tweener heard Sucre calling in the background and exhaled heavily in relief.

"David?"

"Michael, listen, there's something messed up going on. This guy, Mahone, just tried to kill me."

"David, slow down. Who's Mahone?"

"This fed; he drove me out to nowhere and pointed a gun at me. He said he didn't have anything against me but _they_ did."

"Ok David, just calm down. I need to meet you somewhere."

"That's just it man. They know. They know we're here, in this place."

"Ok, just get to somewhere. Find out what town you're in, call me, then lay low. My cell number is 08834657798. If you don't contact me in an hour I'll assume you're caught."

"'Kay man, thanks."

As Tweener flipped the phone shut it began to ring. Assuming it was Scofield ringing back he answered it.

"Yeh?"

"Mahone its Kim."

"What?"

"I need you to add Dr. Tancredi to your hit list. Her father found out about something which we want to keep confidential and we believe he passed this information onto her. Kellerman thinks Scofield is planning to meet up with Tancredi in a few days, so keep him alive. Kill the others. All of them."

Tweener froze.

"Mahone?" Kim asked.

Tweener's mouth was so dry that he only just managed to croak, "Yeh?"

"You do this for us and we'll make sure that you and your family get a nice sum to celebrate your early retirement. I assume you've taken care of the kid?"

Realising that the caller was talking about him, Tweener replied through clenched teeth. "Yeh, he's dead."

"That's great," said Kim happily. "As always, we'll need to see a photo to prove it."

Before Tweener could reply he realised Kim had hung up. He closed the phone and held it against his chin as he processed everything he'd just heard. It was only as he struggled to put the phone into his overall pockets that he noticed his hands shaking.

"C'mon Dave, pull yourself together," he said quietly. Feeling the weight of the gun tucked underneath his overalls, made him feel safer. He rifled through Mahone's wallet, taking out the cash, and threw it as far from the road as possible. Squinting in the fading light, he guessed that it'd take him just over half an hour to make it to the town he could see in the distance. Staying under cover of the long grass next to the dust track, Tweener moved towards the town, running, hoping and praying for safety.

BREAK

After running for just over thirty minutes, Tweener passed a sign welcoming him to Grantsville, Utah. Exhaustion and dehydration took over and he slumped onto the verge. He took out the cell phone and dialled the number Michael had given to him. It rang once before it was answered.

"David?"

"Yeh, it's me."

"Where are you?"

"Just outsida' Grantsville. There's a grocery store and some other buildings, and a road. Bank Road."

"Ok, I'm sending Sucre to pick you up."

"Michael, I gotta warn you, the Doc's in trouble."

"What?"

"I've got the fed's phone and he got a call so I answered it and some guy was talkin' 'bout a hit list, and how we're all on it, and the Doc found somethin' out so now she was on it too." Tweener spoke quickly without taking breathe. Tears formed at his eyes and his voice cracked. "He wanted a photo of my dead body."

"Ok David, you need to wait there. I'm coming to get you, ok?"

"Yeh, man, just hurry, I don't know how much longer I can hold it together"

Tweener closed the phone and put it back into his pocket. Wiping his eyes he looked around. The grocery store was open. Inside, the attendant, a guy about his age was talking to a girl with short dark hair. They were laughing and holding hands over the counter. Tweener watched them for a while and then noticed a payphone standing outside the store. Looking left and right he strode towards the payphone, grateful for the rapidly fading light. He opened the directory hanging from the phone and looked up the surname Belle. There were twenty-three entries so he tore the page from the book and headed towards Bank Road.

Fifteen minutes later, Michael pulled up in front of him. "Get in," he said, leaning over the passenger seat to open the door.

Tweener grabbed the door of the car after carefully pulling his cuffs over his hands. As he was pulling on his seatbelt, Michael pointed to his covered hands. "You don't have to do that, we lost our last car but this one isn't stolen."

"Sorry man," Tweener said quietly, emotion building behind his eyes.

"Don't be."

Grateful for Michael's kindness, Tweener relaxed into the passenger seat as the car moved off. The whirring of the electric window at his shoulder made him jump.

"Dump the phone," Michael ordered calmly. "They can trace it."

Tweener obeyed, throwing the cell hard at the ground as they drove out of Tooele County. As the window closed, he turned in his seat, facing Michael. "Where we goin'?"

"New Mexico."


End file.
